


A Very Shara Holiday Season

by kittensmctavish



Category: BuzzFeed Violet (Short Films), Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Butts, Candles, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Morning, Comfort, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Hanukkah, Holidays, Kissing, Making Out, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Religious Discussion, Romantic Fluff, Tumblr: Buzzfeed Creations Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensmctavish/pseuds/kittensmctavish
Summary: Five 2018 holidays and one 2019 holiday featuring Shane and Sara.Written for the buzzfeed challenge on tumblr (my prompt being "candles/lights")





	A Very Shara Holiday Season

**Author's Note:**

> have an abundance of holiday fluff featuring shane and sara.
> 
> please note: i don't presume to know ANYTHING about shane's parents or their churchgoing habits (or if they even go to church). i'm just doing that thing i usually do where i use fic to work out shit that happens in my own life. like ya do.
> 
> i also don't presume to know sara's opinions of thankgivukkah or chrismukkah.
> 
> also, this is my first fic adding links to the body of a fic, so if any of the links don't work, please let me know.
> 
> also, butts.

1: THE SATURDAY AFTER THANKSGIVING

***

“You can choose where we go.”

“…I thought I chose last year.”

“Yeah, but you can choose again.”

Sara looks over at Shane, who shrugs and offers her a casual smile.

“That’s not how your family tradition goes,” Sara says, leaning over to poke the tip of his nose. “We’re supposed to alternate.”

The first year after they’d moved in together, Shane had explained to Sara how the Madejs handled the annual buying of the Christmas tree every Saturday after Thanksgiving.

First, they went out for lunch somewhere; they alternated between family members every year of who got to choose where they went for lunch. Then, they’d buy a tree at the church lot. That night, the tree would be decorated, ending with the placement of the angel on top (and to prevent fighting amongst brothers, Shane got to place the angel in even years, and Scott in odd years).

Sara had been game to keep the tradition alive, having had no real Christmas traditions of her own, and Shane had allowed her to choose the restaurant they went to that first year.

“I know we’re supposed to alternate, BUT…” Shane poked the tip of her nose in return. “I’ve picked many years before you. Consider this catch-up.”

Sara rolled her eyes, but grabbed his hand as it moved away from poking her nose, so she could pull him closer and kiss his cheek.

“You’re a dork…but you’re a sweet dork,” she says, kissing his other cheek. “If I HAVE to choose…”

“I mean…I have a feeling wherever you choose, I might have chosen as well.”

“So…if I said that new Mexican restaurant that opened recently that we’ve both said, ‘oh, that place looks good, we need to try that’, you absolutely would’ve chosen that place, too?”

“They offer salsa with AND WITHOUT cilantro, Sara! That’s GENIUS!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

A few hours later, Sara and Shane sit at a small table, sharing chips and cilantro-less salsa.

“Question about the tree,” Shane says, scooping salsa on to a chip.

“What about the tree?” Sara asks right as Shane stuffs the chip into his mouth. He holds up a finger and covers his mouth as he chews. Sara snorts. “Yeah, that was my fault, asking you a question right as you were stuffing your face.”

“Shut up, it’s good.”

“I know. This is our second basket of chips. I’m right there with you.” Sara picks up another chip, one of the kind where the tortilla folded in on itself as it fried and made a weird fun crinkly shape.

“Anyway,” Shane continues, lowering his hand now that he was no longer chewing, “I’m wondering if we should invest in a fake tree this year.”

“Go on,” Sara says, dipping her chip in the salsa before taking a bite.

“So…we have a cat now,” Shane begins,” and we don’t know what cats are like around Christmas trees. Or if he’s allergic to pine. I don’t know how cat allergies work. But…if you want to get a real tree again, we totally can, but I’m throwing it out there.” Sara nods thoughtfully as she finishes chewing.

“It’s also economical down the road, really,” she adds. “Throw down a set amount for a tree you’ll reuse over and over rather than spending the same amount year after year for something you throw out within weeks.”

“And you don’t have to worry about watering it or needle droppage or your OWN allergies going crazy, even if you’re NOT allergic to pine.” Shane picks up a chip as he talks, finding it to be another folded-over-on-itself cluster of a chip. He hands it to Sara. She takes it with a smile.

“Let’s do it,” Sara declares, raising her other hand for a high five, which Shane returns whole-heartedly.

They end up going with a smaller tree. One: because less assembly. Two: if Obi knocks it over, there’s less likely of a chance that it’ll damage anything. And three: it was one of the only available ones left.

“Should we go with multicolored lights or white lights?” Sara says. “I’m thinking monochromatic…may be less distracting for Obi, too many colors might freak him out.”

“Yeah, I’m with you on that,” Shane agrees. “Also, I think they’re out of multicolored.”

“Well, that makes our decision for us, then.”

Assembly that evening isn’t too complicated. The tree basically comes in three parts: bottom, middle, and top, and the branches sort of fold out.

“Well, this tree’s a liar,” Shane says when they plug in the lights to test them and make sure none are burned out. “Look!” He points at the middle of the tree. “There’s some red lights in there!”

“Yeah…” Sara leafs through the assembly manual. “I think those are…test lights? Warning lights? Master bulbs? Some sort of lights that do a thing if none of the lights are working.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Once we get all the garland and ornaments on, I don’t think it’ll be too noticeable. Besides…I kinda like it. It’s like the heart of the Christmas tree or something.”

It all culminates with putting the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And it’s Shane’s year to do so.

“You know, one of these years, we should replace this angel with a more biblically accurate angel,” Shane says, looking the angel over to make sure the cord isn’t frayed.

“Aw, but this one’s cute!” Sara coos, patting the angel’s halo gently. “Besides, I like the little coffee cup it’s holding.” The angel was something Shane had inherited from his family when they’d caved a bought a new tree topper. Whatever the angel HAD held in the past had broken, and Shane’s mom replaced it with a small red coffee cup ornament with the words “Oh Fer Fun” printed on the cup.

“It IS charmingly Midwestern,” Shane says.

The tree is small enough and Shane is tall enough that the angel goes on top of the tree with ease.

“And he doesn’t even need to use a stepladder!” Sara quotes in her best Yukon Cornelius voice (which is, admittedly, not a great one).

Obi ends up being distracted by the Christmas tree, but in a very different way than Shane and Sara had feared.

He’s rather…ENTRANCED…by the Christmas tree.

As in, he parks his keister in front of the tree and stares at the lights of the tree for a disconcertingly long period of time.

Sara would get it if they’d put on one of those Yule Log videos and Obi was staring at a flickering fire, because a fire, at least, moves (what with the flickering and such). But the tree doesn’t MOVE.

It gets to the point that Shane makes [a small video of it for Instagram](http://kittensmctavish.tumblr.com/post/180489967004/yaboybergara-obi-on-shanes-instastory-on), with him and Sara calling for Obi more and more desperately to come back to them.

***

2: HANUKKAH

***

“Remember that one year a few years ago when Thanksgiving fell smack dab in the middle of Hanukkah?”

“I do, Shane.”

“What was that like?”

“Honestly, don’t really remember a lot of it. Except people were calling it Thanksgivukkah or some such bullshit and it made me want to die.”

“…remember Chrismukkah?”

“…how dare you remind me.”

“I’m just saying, that was a thing!”

“I’m breaking up with you. We do not utter the C word in this household.”

“We’re at the mall.”

“MY POINT REMAINS VALID, SIR.”

“Once we get to the thing I brought you here to show you, you might change your miiiiiind.”

“I remain skeptical.”

True, Shane had brought Sara to the outdoor mall that was close to their place, because he “had something” to show Sara.

What it is, she doesn’t know. All she knows is Shane is leading her hand in hand towards…something…all while reminding her of why she hated “The O.C.” with a fiery passion and why she was going to punch Adam Brody if she ever met him.

“Almost there, I promise,” Shane says as they pass by a jewelry store. “Then you can break up with me if you’re still miffed about the thing I won’t say again.”

“You know I’m not actually serious about that, right?” is the sentence Sara BEGINS to say, and then they round a corner, towards the courtyard…

…and Sara sees immediately what Shane wanted to show her.

Standing in the courtyard is a large menorah display, with large candlelight-shaped bulbs at the top of each “candle”. The appropriate number of “candles” are lit for the day of Hanukkah that is currently is.

“I was here the other day buying presents,” Shane explains, “and I saw this being set up. Was curious to see how the candles would light up during Hanukkah, so I came back to check and…yeah, they’ve been lighting up in order.”

She’s never seen this before. This either must be a new thing this mall is doing, or they’ve been doing it for years and she just never comes to this mall.

“Okay,” she says. “So I guess we don’t have to break up.”

“That’s the best Hanukkah gift of all,” Shane says. Sara punches him lightly in the arm, before kissing the spot she punched. And then kissing him.

They come back a few days later, when Hanukkah has ended. She takes a picture in front of all the lit candles.

***

3: CHRISTMAS EVE

***

Sara’s curled up on the couch, drawing curlicues around the name on an envelope. She’s probably embellished it enough, but she hadn’t used calligraphy pens in a while and forgot how fun they can be. Occasionally, she can hear a murmur of something from the other room, where Shane’s talking to his parents on the phone.

Meanwhile, Obi’s curled up in a ball in front of the Christmas tree, having settled in for a long winter’s nap a while ago.

On her laptop screen, a 10-hour Yule Log video is playing on fullscreen. It doesn’t provide warmth, but the crackle of the fire makes for nice ambient sounds.

Sara’s putting the finishing touches on a last curlicue when the bedroom door opens, Shane’s goodbyes carrying through the hall. She sets her pen on the coffee table and hides the envelope underneath the pillow behind her back as Shane emerges, letting out a weighty sigh.

“You okay?” Sara asks. “Everything all right in Schaumberg?”

“Yeah, just…” Shane plops down on the couch. “You know parents.” He offers a wry smile.

“I DO know parents. I HAVE parents. And I know YOUR parents. TJ’s a parent now. Hannah’s a parent. Ned and Ariel are parents.”

“Okay okay, stop saying ‘parents’,” Shane laughs.

“But seriously…anything wrong?” Sara says, scooching closer to Shane. “Presents not get there in time?”

“No, everything got there, it’s under the tree, they’ll Facetime tomorrow when they’ve opened everything.” Shane rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…” He sighs again. “I don’t know, they mentioned that they were about to head off for the Christmas Eve service and that…you know, they REALLY MISSED me being there and that it’d be REALLY NICE if I could be there.”

“Ah…Protestant guilt,” Sara says faux-wisely.

“I don’t think that’s really a thing, but…” Shane shrugs. “I don’t know…like, it’s their little way of telling me they’re not happy that I’m a godless heathen.”

“You’re not a godless heathen. You just…don’t go to church anymore. That’s okay.”

“Not to them, it isn’t. Like, they don’t outright say ‘We didn’t raise you to not go to church on the reg’ but they might as well. You know. Even though I’m a grown-ass adult who can make my own decisions.”

Sara nods.

“And at this point, it shouldn’t bother me as much what they think of my churchgoing habits BECAUSE I’m a grown-ass adult who can make my own decisions, but…it still does a little. Like…just…knowing I’m disappointing them even the slightest bit.”

Sara wrap her arms around her sullen boyfriend, running her fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s a lot of things our parents don’t raise us to do, but we do them anyway,” Sara says softly. “Because life’s unexpected. The world evolves. Like, your parents didn’t raise you to make videos for the internet, but you do. They didn’t raise you to hunt ghosts and steal a bridge from a demon. They didn’t raise you to craft an ongoing saga about hot dogs that would eventually become the greatest work of media ever crafted, and you went and did that.” Sara feels Shane smiling into her shoulder as he squeezes her a little tighter.

“You’re not wrong there,” he says, voice muffled by her sweater.

“They raised you to be a good person,” Sara continues, pulling away enough to look at Shane, brush her fingers against his cheek, “and I know for a fact that they succeeded there.” Shane smiles, turns his head enough to kiss her fingers. “At least, I’m assuming they raised you to be a good person, I don’t know THAT part for a fact.” Shane laughs beneath her fingertips and pulls her closer, to the point that she’s basically sitting in his lap, presses his cheek to hers.

“I think more than anything, they just wanted…WANT me to be happy,” he sighs, his breath tickling her neck as he talks. “And…like, I know they’re happy to go to church every week. They get something out of it, and I just…don’t anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Sara says, stroking his hair again. “That doesn’t make you any less good of a person, either. Being religious doesn’t equate to being good.”

“I know…like, I’m happy with the way my life is.” Shane squeezes her waist again. “Really happy. It’s just…not happiness by their standards.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know that your parents have standards like that.”

“I know…I know they probably don’t…” She feels him sigh. “They’re good parents, and I love them. I’m just…being irrational.”

“If it helps, you turned out pretty swell, so I agree with the consensus that they’re good parents,” Sara says. Shane pokes her in the waist RIGHT where it tickles her most (and he KNOWS it), causing her to yelp and nearly fall out of his lap.

“Excuse you,” Shane mock-scolds as he helps to right her position so she doesn’t fall off the couch. “I am TRYING to have a moment of despondence and you’re cheering me up isn’t helping with that.”

“Well, EXCUSE me for hating to see you so despondent,” Sara mock-defends, poking his cheek. He pokes her cheek right back, and there’s a brief moment of levity, of helpless giggles, from the very serious discussion from not one minute prior.

“…but thank you,” Shane says when the laughter subsides.

“You’re welcome,” Sara says. Shane rests his forehead against hers, smiling up at her from her position in his lap. She leans in further, pressing the tip of her nose against his for a moment before scrunching her face up in the cutest smile she can muster. (Based on Shane’s resulting smile, it’s pretty darn cute.)

“I love you,” Shane whispers, soft, sweet, sincere, tinged with the same nervous bashfulness from the first time he ever told her he loved her.

“I love you,” Sara whispers in return, smiling into the kiss that follows, at his attempt to pull her in closer to him than she already is, at the familiarity of his scruff and his sighs and his Shane-ness and how she’ll never get tired of it, of kissing him, of loving him.

However long they kiss (never long enough, as far as she’s concerned), Sara pulls away to look at him again.

“You okay?” she asks. Shane nods. She smiles, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I love you,” he says again. “I know I just said it but…feel like I don’t say it enough sometimes.”

“You say it plenty,” Sara says, fingers playing with the hairs at the back of his neck. “But I love you, too.” She punctuates her point with a quick peck to his lips.

If Shane is going to say something else, he’s interrupted by a “meow” and a tail tickling his hand.

“Aw…” Sara coos. “Does Obi want kisses, too?” Obi leaps up on to the couch as Sara moves off of Shane so Obi can snuggle between them. She presses a kiss to the top of Obi’s head. “Sweet orange boy.”

“Finally pulled yourself away from the Christmas tree, Obi?” Shane asks as the cat curls up in his lap.

“Maybe he wanted to come sit by the fire,” Sara jokes, pointing at her laptop.

“Was that it, Obi?” Shane asks the cat again. “Wanted to see the fire Sara worked so hard to build?”

“Yeah, SO hard,” Sara says, rolling her eyes. “It took me SECONDS to pull up a video and hit fullscreen mode.”

“The calming blue light of a fire on a laptop screen,” Shane sighs. “What Christmas is truly all about.” Sara laughs.

***

4: CHRISTMAS DAY

***

“How’d your family like their presents?” Sara asks from the kitchen as she rinses out their coffee cups.

“Loved ‘em!” Shane calls from the living room. “Mom freaked out.”

“I heard some of that!” Sara laughs as she turns the water off.

“Mom’s sending me pictures right now of everyone with their gifts! You need to see some of these!”

“Almost done!” Sara dries her hands and flicks the kitchen light off as she leaves. As she bounds into the living room, Shane looks up and smiles at her. “You said something about pics?”

“Yeah,” Shane says as she sits down next to him. “Won’t show you all of them, but there are three you HAVE to see.”

The pictures Shane shows her are of his mom, his dad, and his brother, all with the drawings she gave them. Little things to decorate their homes, their apartments, their offices, wherever they wanted a little something, if they wanted it.

“Mom couldn’t stop going on about how much she loved hers,” Shane says, wrapping an arm around Sara’s shoulder. “How talented you are.” Sara looks at the picture of his mom. Her smile is big and bright next to Sara’s rendition of the Northern Lights.

“I’m glad they liked them,” Sara says, suddenly shy, as though his family were right there to compliment her work.

“You are, you know,” Shane says, kissing her cheek. “Talented.” Her other cheek. “And pretty.” Her forehead. “And smart.” Below her jaw. “And funny.” Her neck. “And zesty.”

“Okay, I get it, stahp,” Sara laughs as the kisses to her neck continue, relentless and tickly. “You’ve been ridiculously affectionate as of late.”

“Yeah, well…” Shane lips continue their descent down her neck. “It’s the holiday season, so…”

“…so whoop-de-doo and dickory-dock?” Sara offers. Shane pulls away to look up at her incredulously. “What? That’s a line from one of the stupider Christmas songs, right?”

“…I mean, you’re not WRONG, but…”

Shane’s phone beeps. They both look down at the screen to see a new message from his mom, followed by an audio file.

“Won’t bug you about this anymore, I promise,” Shane reads aloud, “but the choir at church last night was beautiful, and I thought you might like to hear it.” He pauses before looking at Sara. “She was telling me about the sermon last night, and how it was something I would’ve really liked.”

“What was it about?” Sara asks.

“It was…okay, admittedly, it did sound interesting,” Shane begins. “The theme last night was of the angel appearing to the shepherds to tell them about the birth of Jesus. And the sermon went into the whole ‘fear not’ thing and how angels said that because they didn’t look anything like…you know…conventionally attractive white people in flowing white robes.”

“Right, the cherubim and seraphim and such. Or the wheel of fire ones. Properly terrifying creatures.”

“Exactly. So there was a REASON angels greeted people with ‘Fear not’, and not just because, holy shit, a person flying, THAT’S not natural.” Sara snorts. “But yeah, that would’ve been…like, the SECOND sermon I would’ve ever been interested in listening to.”

“What was the first, out of curiosity?”

“Tale of the prodigal son, but from the OTHER son’s perspective. Like, the obedient son who DIDN’T run away and blow all his money. Like, that was a perspective I hadn’t really considered before, and…I don’t know, that one, I paid attention to. That one always stuck with me for some reason.” Sara nods, nestling her chin in the crook of his neck. “Sorry, I forgot to ask if you know the tale of the prodigal son.”

“Yeah, sounds familiar,” Sara nods into his shoulder. “I had a friend who was in a production of ‘Godspell’ once, so there you go.” Shane laughs. “But anyway…you gonna listen?”

“I mean…the one best thing about my parents’ church is the music,” Shane says. “The music is the thing I get the most out of whenever I go to church with then anymore.”

“Then let’s listen,” Sara says. “Do you know the name of it?”

“Mom said it called ‘[The Angel to the Shepherds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCr058hsup0)’ or something, but…again, ties back to the whole ‘fear not’ thing. Like, the choir IS the angel.” Shane opens up the audio file.

It’s a little grainy, and there’s some rustling and a general smattering of coughing and baby noises. But the choir is…decent. Like, it sounds like a high school choir singing a song that should probably be sung by a college choir, but it’s a good piece. There’s one bit where the main choir sings “the city of David” and then a quartet of singers echoes them, as if from a distance; Sara thinks that’s fun. Then the altos break into something in a mix of Latin and English, one of those old carols that Shane will listen to sometimes in the car that Sara sort of recognizes.

“Pretty good,” she says when the song comes to a close. From Shane’s phone, in the hush following the song, a small child cries “YAY!” making Shane and Sara laugh. “Clearly, someone agrees with me.”

“Oh god…there was a song they did a couple of years ago…” Shane’s already laughing at the memory. “It was a mash-up of ‘Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming’ and Bette Midler’s ‘The Rose’.”

Sara almost falls off the couch, she’s laughing so hard.

“Are you serious?!” she manages as Shane helps pick her up.

“DEAD serious.”

“Oh, PLEASE tell me someone was doing the sign language from ‘Napoleon Dynamite’.”

“I was. Under the pew.”

“What was the logic behind THAT? Like, hey, these two songs have the word ‘rose’ in them, PERFECT mash-up.”

“I think that was exactly it.”

“Oh lord…”

“Even my mom was like, ‘huh…that was…certainly something, wasn’t it’.”

“You know, they made CHOICES and they WENT WITH them. That’s what MY mom would say.”

“Your mom and my mom would get along.”

“Aw…”

A small, comfortable silence falls as Shane closes out of his messages and sets his phone down on the coffee table.

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me,” Sara says, “and thank you for showing me those pictures.”

“You’re very welcome,” Shane says, kissing her cheek, then her lips. She smiles, kissing him again.

“And NOW,” she says, breaking the kiss, “I have something for you.” She digs into the couch cushions, where she knows she hid the envelope last night. “I know we said we weren’t gonna do gifts, but this was too good not to get you.” She hands Shane the envelope.

His name is on it, written in slightly shaky calligraphy, surrounded by swirls and curlicues.

“What’s this?” Shane asks, arching an eyebrow as he opens the envelope. Inside is [a card](http://kittensmctavish.tumblr.com/post/181400385749/nerdbotmk2-last-night-i-found-the-most-perfect).

The front of the card has a picture of a cartoon bear, its face showing through a hole in the front of the card. The card reads “Just me, checkin’ out your nice butt.” Shane laughs when he reads that, then laughs harder when he opens the card. The bear is a pop-up bear, now appearing to be leaning to the side while looking at something. The inside of the card reads, “Me again, checkin’ it TWICE! Merry Christmas”, and underneath that is written, “Love, the judge of all the ‘Who’s got the cutest butt’ contests (aka Sara)”.

Shane’s closing the card and is about to say something when he catches what’s on the back of the card, and laughter beings anew. The same bear, still tilted to the side while looking at something. Back of the card reads, “Uhm, yeah…me again. Still checkin’.” Underneath that is an intricately drawn smiley face with a slight leer.

“That’s…incredible,” Shane finally manages to say when he’s done laughing. “Ms. Rubin, are you tryin’ to tell me I’ve got a nice butt?”

“Maaaaaaaaaaybe,” Sara says, waggling her eyebrows in a way that’s too silly to be considered sexy, no matter how many times Shane insists otherwise. “Can you blame me?”

“Awfully forward of you to say so.”

“What can I say? I’m a cheeky girl.” Another eyebrow waggle. There’s a momentary expression that flickers over Shane’s face that he reserves for the worst of puns, and then he rises from the couch.

“Well, I don’t have to sit here and take this cheek from you,” he insists with faux affront.

“Mmm…hate to see you leave, looooove to watch you go,” Sara calls as Shane begins to walk out of the living room, hips swaying more than they usually do, and Sara tries not to laugh at this game they’ve started playing. “Just when I think I’m out, those cheeks pull me right back in!”

“Okay, slow your roll, Tina Belcher!” Shane turns to say, something falling out of his hand as he turns. Sara cackles at the nickname (and at the words “slow your roll” coming out of Shane’s mouth). Shane looks down. “Oh no, I’ve dropped my lovely card.”

“Yeah, you should bend over and pick it up,” Sara suggests innocently. “Maybe facing the kitchen as you do so, with your back to me.” Shane rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Well, it IS Christmas, so…” Shane acquiesces to her request.

“Awwwwww yeah,” Sara says. “THAT is a NICE butt.””

“How nice IS my butt?”

“Very nice. Like, Smerdis may have a good butt, but you got a SAAAAAAAAASSY butt.”

“Fuckin’ Smerdis…”

“Forget Smerdis. Like I said, your butt’s way cuter than his butt.”

“Is my butt cuter than Poe Dameron’s butt?”

“Every time.”

“You sure? Poe Dameron’s got a pretty nice butt.”

“Yeah, but there are a lot of factors that go into judging butts,” Sara says, trying to sound like the most serious of science-y people. “What the butt looks like in various items of clothing—boxers, tight jeans, et cetera. What the butt looks like when walking, when bending over, et cetera. But most importantly…”

In lieu of continuing to try and sound like judging of cute butts is a Very Serious Matter, Sara reaches over and smacks Shane’s butt.

“ExCUSE you!” Shane turns, once again mocking affront.

“It’s for SCIENCE, Shane,” Sara insists, despite the fact that they’re both in hysterics now. “Like I said, there are many factors that go into judging these things, and touch is integral to them.”

“If I kiss you, will you leave my very nice and cute butt alone?” Shane asks.

“Maaaaaaaaaybe.” Another eyebrow waggle. But she rises from the couch, pushes herself on to her tiptoes, and kisses him. It’s long and slow, and Shane’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens, Her hands travel down his back…right down to his butt…which she squeezes.

“Yeah, should’ve seen that coming,” Shane says, breaking the kiss as Sara giggles into his neck, moving to kiss the skin there. “How would YOU like it if I grabbed your butt while we were making out?”

“Actually, I’d love that,” Sara says, pulling away from what she was doing.

“…oh.”

“Yeah. You’ve done it before and I’ve never been mad at it.”

“Well…that’s a good point, I guess.”

And with that, they’re right back to making out, Sara moaning into Shane’s mouth as his hands reach her backside, breaking away for a moment to half-laugh, half-squeal as he lifts her up. Her legs go around his waist as her mouth finds his again and he carries her towards the bedroom.

***

5: NEW YEAR’S EVE

***

“Did I ever tell you about the year Scott and I set off the smoke alarm?” Shane asks Sara as they pour champagne into glasses. Sara halts her pour.

“…no, but now you HAVE to tell me,” she says.

“So one year, we thought it’d be fun to ring in the New Year by gathering every candle Mom and Dad had in the house,” Shane explains. “We’d light them all shortly before midnight and then, at midnight, blow them all out.”

“How many candles were there in the house?”

“Enough to set off the smoke alarm, I can tell you that for sure.”

“Oh my god…”

“And that was the test run.”

Sara laughs so hard, she almost skews the bottle and spills champagne on the table.

“Well, I can TRY to find a candle, if you’d like to recreate those halcyon days…” Sara suggests. “We’ve got, like, seven minutes to 2019.”

“We have candles?” Shane asks.

“Yeah, I got one as part of a basket from Buzzfeed a while ago, hold on.” Sara pecks his cheek and makes a dash for her bedroom. After some frantic digging through her closet, she finds the small glass jar.

“Found it!” she calls as she makes for the dining room again. “Do you know where we keep the matches? DO we keep matches?”

“Yeah, got a lighter right here!” Shane answers. Sara sets the candle on the table and pops the lid off, lifting it to her face to smell.

“Mmm…vanilla and cinnamon…with a faint layer of dust,” she sighs. Shane sniffs the candle as well.

“You can really smell the ‘clueless gift giver’,” he adds, setting it back on the table. Sara takes the lighter and holds the flame towards the wick. She glances at her phone.

“Okay, we got…two minutes till 2018 comes to a close,” Sara says, picking up her champagne glass. “A little early, but…” Shane raises his glass and clinks it against his. They take sips of the ten-dollar-est champagne they could find.

“You know, actually…” Shane says, “I remembered I forgot to give you something last week.” Sara sets her champagne glass down. “I know we said we weren’t going to get each other anything, but…”

At sixty seconds to midnight, Shane withdraws something she hadn’t known he’d been hiding. At forty-five seconds to midnight, Sara listens to him explain the gift. At fifteen seconds to midnight, she’s pulling him into a kiss.

At 12:00 A.M., January 1, 2019, they’re still kissing. The candle flickers.

***

\+ 1: NEW YEAR’S DAY

***

Sara wakes up to the smell of coffee and rubs her eyes. She can hear Shane moving around in the kitchen, making breakfast. She stretches and sits up, pushing her curls back out of her face.

Sunlight peeps through the curtains, catching on her ring. The ring Shane gave her last night. ...well...also...last year.

Sara smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> i mean...shane...if you're not gonna put a ring on it, i will.
> 
> feedback welcome and appreciated.


End file.
